


Magic Mirror

by CaptainCat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21945397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCat/pseuds/CaptainCat
Summary: A Christmas present for Tekturna, based on their lovely artwork.A special thanks to acautionarytale for the inspiration for this story as well.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62
Collections: Bellamione Cult Secret Santa 2019





	Magic Mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tekturna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tekturna/gifts).



> A Christmas present for Tekturna, based on their lovely artwork.  
> A special thanks to acautionarytale for the inspiration for this story as well.

The first time it happened, Hermione was 9-years-old. Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, carefully flossing her teeth for the second time that day (per her parent’s insistence), she watched wide-eyed as the mirror began to flicker. As if by magic the reflection staring back at her transformed from a frizzy-haired girl in an ordinary bathroom to a grown woman in a shamy, grey room.

The woman was very beautiful. She had thick black curls, pale skin, and was dressed in a black and grey gown that resembled a prison uniform. Though Hermione had no way of knowing for sure, she had the unwavering inkling that the woman felt _cold_.

“Who are you?” Hermione asked, leaning forward to touch the mirror.

The woman’s eyebrows quirked slightly. “Don’t tell me Mummy and Daddy neglected to teach you about the greats.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose. Was this woman “one of the greats”? She wondered who “the greats” were. Her parents taught her many things - she was, in fact, the top of her class at St. Peter’s Primary School - but she they did not teach her about women who show up in mirrors.

“What’s your name? Is your mummy around?” the woman asked her.

“Hermione Jean Granger. It’s a pleasure to meet you. And no. My mum is at work.” Hermione said, using her most polite introductions before asking what was on her mind. “What’s your name and why are you in my mirror?”

“Granger? Why don’t I know that family?” The woman ignored Hermione’s question. She craned her neck within the confines of the mirror, as if trying to get a better look of Hermione’s surroundings. “Sweet Merlin don’t tell me you’re a half-blood.”

“What’s a half-blood?” She asked. The woman cackled in response. She looked as though she was about the explain but the mirror flickered, and the stranger without a name disappeared.

_Art by Tekturna -- The inspiration for this story._

\---

By the age of 15 Hermione had convinced herself the woman in the mirror had been a dream. After all, not even in the magical world did witches or wizards randomly appear in mirrors. At least, that’s what she chose to believe until one fateful evening when she stood alone in the girl’s dormitory, staring at her reflection as she tried to fix her hair in preparation for the Yule Ball.

“What -” Hermione jumped backwards as her mirror flickered before her eyes, a familiar reflection coming into the view. The woman who appeared before her looked the same as she had all those years ago - still sporting grey and black robes, still in a shabby room, and still beautiful and elegant.

“It’s you,” Hermione said, reaching forward to touch the mirror. “What happened? What’re you doing here?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Hermione before cocking her head curiously. “Do you always ask so many questions, girl?”

“Do you always appear in people’s mirrors without explanation?”

The woman laughed her response. Hermione wasn’t sure what to make of the cackling sound.

“Granger, isn’t it?” The woman asked.

“Perhaps,” Hermione said, feeling much wiser than she had the last time this strange woman appeared in her mirror. “What’s your name?”

“Bellatrix. Don’t suppose you’ve heard of me now that you’re all grown up, have you _bitty_ ?” The woman popped her lips as she pronounced her name, the words somehow echoing through the mirror. Hermione tried to run a mental inventory. _Bellatrix._ It sounded familiar, but she wasn’t sure where she had heard it before.

“I’m afraid I haven’t.” Hermione would research her and her supposed infamy later. She had more pressing questions now. “Why do you keep showing up in my mirrors?”

“Wish I could tell you, lovey.” Bellatrix hummed. “I’ve had this piece of glass for some time now, and your itty bitty face has shown up in it twice.”

“Piece of glass?”

“Yes. What, did you think they’d allow a mirror in Azkaban?” Bellatrix cackled, her laugh colder and less joyful than before. “I knicked this bit of glass years ago. Useful for cutting enemies, you see. It’s just a shame that it doesn’t work on Dementors.”

 _Azkaban_ ? _Dementors_? Surely the woman wasn’t a…

“You’re Bellatrix _Lestrange_.” Hermione said. “I read about you when Sirius escaped last year and Dementors came to Hogwarts. You supported You-Know-Who!”

“I’m also the greatest dark witch alive.”

Hermione blanched.

“Can you get out of my mirror, please?” She said, locking eyes with Bellatrix. “I have to get ready for an event tonight, and I’d rather not talk to someone who’s clearly prejudice and evil.”

Bellatrix laughed again, but this time she sounded much more jovial. “I nearly forgot you’re a half-blood.”

“Muggle-born, actually.” Hermione retorted proudly.

“Well,” Bellatrix said after a moment of pointed silence. “Consider yourself lucky, Mudblood. You’re slightly better company than the rats and the Dementors.”

Hermione thought about kindly telling Bellatrix that she had enough friends, but couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Not after what Sirius had shared about Azkaban, or after learning that many of You-Know-Who’s followers were forced to support him. Perhaps Bellatrix wasn’t evil, and had just been trying to survive the war. Or perhaps Azkaban was reforming Bellatrix, and she’d change her ways. Hermione believed in forgiveness and reform, so without much more thought she decided to continue talking to the prisoner in her mirror.

“Have you not had much company then?” Hermione asked, genuinely curious. “Can you talk to anyone else in the glass?”

“I’ve checked the glass for the past 2077 days… for whatever reason the charm on the glass only works for you, Muddy.”

Hermione frowned. “Inside Azkaban, though? Surely there are other, ahem, prisoners, you can talk to”

“Could be. Pretty sure they’ve all lost their minds. Luckily for me I’ve never had time to bother with sanity. It’s so _boring_ , you know?” Bellatrix almost giggled at this. She certainly didn’t sound sane.

“I have to go,” Hermione said, knowing that Viktor would be waiting for her. “But if the glass works I’ll talk to you aga-.”

“Before I let you say goodbye,” Bellatrix interrupted. “Tell me something, Muddy. Has there been word of the Dark Lord? Word of his return?”

“No,” Hermione blinked. “No, there hasn’t.”


End file.
